


Desertion

by goodplan



Category: The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton
Genre: Frottage, Just Guys Being Dudes With Their Dicks, M/M, Makeouts of a Sloppy Variety, Mentions of Darry, Mentions of Mrs. Curtis, Mentions of Sodapop, Semi-Angst on Dally's Side, Teenage Awkwardness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 07:38:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5326061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodplan/pseuds/goodplan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Johnny and Dally dwell on the single couch in the frozen den that is the Curtis residence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desertion

**Author's Note:**

> hi im sorry but there's a lack of fics in this fandom so i come baring my first gift of porn please enjoy

The Curtis residence was a frozen shack during the winter, and this factor purely escalated at night. They rarely turned the heater on because it was expensive and Darry and Soda together couldn’t muster up the cash to pay for food, electricity and heating for a full winter season. But the Curtis house was refuge, albeit being cold and run-down. Though, the people who used this sanctuary treated it well. Treating this home well was common knowledge of the neighborhood, even to people like Tim Shepard, who aren’t exactly close to any of the real residents of the place, but he uses it to his advantage when on the run or in need of a place to sleep.

This house was a place of peace, even for people like Dallas Winston.

Dallas laid numbly on the living room’s sofa, which was splotchy and rugged and full of mysterious stains. It never used to be like that when Mrs. Curtis was the one in charge of the place. Dallas doesn’t remember Mrs. Curtis like he remembers his own mother. He could barely remember his own mother, besides the fact she was a neglective drunk. Unlike her, Mrs. Curtis seemed to truly care for Dallas. She cared for all of the gang, as if _she_ was everyone's mother. Mrs. Curtis had something about her that demanded respect, and it made Dallas immediately gravitate towards her. It took no time for him to warm up to her; after all, she brought out emotions in Dallas he didn’t even know he had. Laughter, deviousness, and when he caught word of the accident: sorrow. A surprising, genuine sadness. He remembered being stony faced at the funeral just like Darry. He also remembered going back to Buck’s that night and getting drunk and wanting to sob. Wasting tears for another person that wasn’t himself in a random spurt of self pity. That was the most emotion he had felt in a long while.

She was a wonderful woman. 

But that was a real long time ago.

Now Dallas is older. Everyone is older. And he hates it. Thinking about it like he is now gets him pissed, and his dead eyes glare deeper into the darkness that he assumes by his position is the ceiling.Time, he means. He hates that people can walk in and out of his life and time just continues on. It makes Dallas remember how insignificant his own life is.

The nerves inside his head begin to pinch and clot and twist, a headache forming at the very front of his skull. But before he could even register that the ailment was coming on, a gentle and slow swish and click sound from the front door could be heard. Dallas quickly propped himself up on his elbows to view the entrance of the home being illuminated with a muddy mixture of moonlight and orange street lamp light. He squinted, and could vaguely see the face of the intruder. The build was slim and short and bedraggled. When Dallas spoke, the stranger jumped anxiously, and that was a dead give away of who it was. 

“Johnny?” 

“Oh, uh, hey, man.”

Dallas sat up fully from his spot on the sofa as Johnny shut the door. Johnny was standing awkwardly and unmoving, obviously not prepared for another human's presence, let alone one situated where he was planning on crashing for the night. Johnny shoved his hands deeper in his jacket’s pockets, and Dallas sighed. “You’re out pretty late,” he commented, and Johnny shuffled to the couch. He sat down stiffly next Dallas, who leaned his back against the cushions instead of sprawling back out. He wasn’t usually this considerate, but he was tired. Very tired.

“Sorry if I woke you,” Johnny coughed. Dallas shrugged. “No big thing. Wasn’t sleeping a wink anyway. Too damn cold.” Johnny smiled at nothing in particular, and Dallas could almost see it through the light slits seeping in from the blinds. Johnny seemed to be happy to hear about not being the one responsible for waking Dallas, but immediately switched to concern when realizing Dallas wasn’t sleeping at all. Dallas caught this atmospheric shift, and waved it off. He wanted to change the subject as to _why_ Johnny was here in the first place and at such a late hour, but just assumed it was more problems of the familial variety. He’d give that no good father of his a fucking shiner one of these days. Maybe Johnny’s mother too, if he was pissed enough. Dallas hated what that family did to this kid. This poor, defeated kid who didn’t even realize that the only reason Dallas was still breathing was because he was still breathing. He was the only good in this goddamn world and no love or adoration deserved to be wasted on anything else but Johnny. His grace and fragileness kept Dallas around.

It was a shame Johnny himself couldn’t see that.

Johnny must have been utterly exhausted, because shortly after he leaned back, his head began to lull to one side. Johnny’s eyes were fluttering from open to closed, as if he was worried he’d miss something Dallas had to say if he fell asleep. Dally didn’t notice that Johnny was on the verge of falling asleep as he continued to speak.

“I wasn’t plannin’ on running into you tonight,” he began, and Johnny nodded tiredly. “Buck booted me from his place, so I guess this was the only other safe option.” Dally swore under his breath as he thought about Buck, making a mental note to get back at his ass later. Buck always tended to fuck Dally over, and it was at times such as these he was thankful for the Curtis’. 

“Yeah,” Johnny croaked. “I guess it’s true that nobody on this side has anywhere to go, huh?” He tried to chuckle, as if that fact was some sort of joke, but it came out as a shameful cough. “I’m glad you’re here though, Dal. If I came by and nobody was up, I probably woulda gotten spooked or somethin’.” At this, Dallas simpered smugly. He knew Johnny felt safe around him. He knew that Johnny was his to protect, and Johnny was well aware of that fact too. Thinking this thought reminded him of Mrs. Curtis, for some odd reason. The feeling felt for protecting Johnny must have been how she felt for the whole gang. 

But Dallas felt that, and then some.

Johnny let out a cold sigh, resting his head gently on Dallas’ shoulder. Dallas made no move to alter this, and the silence enveloped them nicely. “It’s good you came, kid.” he told, and Johnny’s head moved to look up. Johnny examined Dally’s neck and jawline, and pretty soon he was glancing up at his eyes. He admired the sharpness of Dallas, physically and mentally. His eyes didn’t move from the others, and as soon as Dally noticed, he moved to face Johnny completely. The silvery light of the moon continued to peer in through the blinds, and the soft features of Johnny’s own face became more seeable from where Dally was sitting.  
He looked so sweet.

Ethereal, even. 

Before Dallas could control himself, he pressed his lips to Johnny’s in a surprisingly gentle manner. His eyes were half lidded, specifically for the purpose of seeing Johnny’s face. His features contorted to that of mild surprise, then content, then bliss. They locked eyes before Johnny shut his lazily, and Dally took that as a hint to deepen their osculation. 

Both parties were far from catatonic as they engaged in a more heated act, Johnny’s arms snaking their way around Dallas’ neck, Dallas’ hands roaming along the curves of Johnny’s sides. He laid Johnny down onto the couch cushions, looming over his lithe form. His tongue brushed against Johnny’s over and over, neither of them parting for a breath. 

Everything that once felt cold in the house became hot immediately, and as Dally wedged a leg in between Johnny’s, everything became hotter. Johnny broke away to let a quiet gasp escape his lips, and once Dallas heard it, he wanted to hear it again. He moved his wandering hands Johnny’s abdomen, his mouth finding the side of Johnny’s neck. They both felt so scandalous, both being somewhat conscious of the three other bodies asleep down the hall. 

Johnny moved his head to the side, exposing his neck further for Dally. 

Dally’s hand brushed against the bulge in Johnny’s jeans cautiously, and as Johnny winced, he placed a handful of kisses on tender skin of his neck. As an experiment, Dally did it again, only to hear a lewd and wanting moan in reply. 

Dallas never heard such a thing come from Johnny before.

But he decided he liked it.

And he would love to hear it over and over again.

“Dal,” Johnny inhaled. “Maybe we should, y’know…” Dallas looked up, and Johnny was flushed. He was so beautiful like this, under Dally. “Keep going.”

To Dallas, it sounded like a command more than a suggestion. But this was the first time he’s ever seen Johnny like this, and he would, without a doubt, take what he could get. 

Dallas unbutton and unzipped Johnny’s jeans expertly, and Johnny looked away in self-consciousness. He bit the inside of his cheek as Dally eased up from him, undoing his own jeans just as quick. “Sh, hey, don’t worry,” Dallas spoke lamely, cupping Johnny’s face to look up at him with one hand. “we’ll play it light.” Johnny nodded. 

Johnny put himself to use, reaching up to tug Dally out of his boxers. He had a lustful look to his eye, and Dallas noticed this. “Damn eager,” he muttered, and Johnny scowled down. “Quiet.” 

Dally laughed quietly, brushing Johnny’s hands away. He stroked himself briefly, and then tended to Johnny. He pulled Johnny’s already aching shaft out, fingertips brushing against its sides. Johnny bit his bottom lip to suppress yet another embarrassing noise, keeping it locked in the back of his throat. This method came to no avail when Dally bent down to kiss him again, shaky moan leaving his mouth and travelling into Dally’s. He immediately pried Johnny’s mouth open, his tongue tasting everything it did before. As Dally did this, he pressed his hardened member against Johnny’s, and the sensation of skin on skin contact made Johnny gasp. Dallas grunted into the kiss, smashing his mouth harder against Johnny’s.

As they kissed, Johnny wrapped his arms around Dally again, and Dally got to work pumping and rubbing their shafts together in time. The whole situation was a lot more intimate than either expected, and over the course of the actions, they both became more invested in it. Johnny pulled away to breath shortly after. He was a panting mess, back arching into Dally as his hands continued working. Dally took the opportunity to busy his mouth with Johnny’s neck again, kisses turning into licks, licks turning into hickeys. 

To admit it felt good was an understatement. Johnny’s legs trembled slightly as he felt a twisting knot in the pit of his stomach, hands gripping the fabric of Dally’s shirt. His mind was everywhere, as was Dally’s. They couldn’t conclude as to why they were doing this in the first place, or how the idea somehow simultaneously seemed to pop into both of their heads. All they knew is that the hardness of each other pressed side by side, paired with agonizingly pleasuring friction felt amazing.

There was a chance it was all hormonal. An aching need on Johnny’s end. But he knew that wasn’t entirely the case. 

“ _Dally_ , Dal-” Johnny spoke as a warning, and Dally caught exactly what he meant. He bit gently into Johnny’s neck, and Johnny cried out, forgetting to mind his volume. This sent Dally over the edge, coming into his hand with a low groan. His hand was slick, and he used this to his advantage to pump Johnny out enough to completion. Johnny came soon after, arms wrapping around Dally’s back tightly. The two breathed deep, as if they were still trying to register what they just happened to accomplish. Dallas’ moved his arms, balling his hands into fists as he rested each forearm on either side of Johnny’s head. He rested his forehead against the other’s gently, looking at him through tired post-orgasmic eyes.  
He was prepared to feel a hint of regret. A hint of any sort of negative feeling at all. But there was absolutely none, just the same continuous affection he held for Johnny Cade as when he first opened the door. 

After a good minute or two, Dally caught his breath. He sat up straight on his knees, peeling his eyes off of Johnny’s to look at his hand with disgust. Johnny’s cheeks flushed slightly as he sat up as much as he could, looking down at himself. It was as if he suddenly became aware of his dick being out all this time, and quickly fumbled to shove it away and do up his jeans. 

“You should probably go and, er. Take care of that.” He told Dallas, who scoffed lightly. If he was tired before, he was enervated now. He wiped his palm on the chest of his shirt, and Johnny observed what he could in the dark. It made him laugh nervously, but Dallas just shrugged it off as he tucked himself back into his jeans. 

Dally laid down wordlessly against the couch, pressing his back up against the back cushions. Johnny helped himself, though cautiously, to the empty area under Dally’s arm. This must have been the right thing to do, because as soon as Johnny situated himself comfortably, Dallas hooked him into a tight one-armed embrace. He buried his face into Johnny’s mussed hair, breathing in the salty smell as much as he could.

Johnny let him. 

In only a few quiet minutes, the two were sound asleep, breath even and benign. They didn’t know of what would become of them in the morning, or how it would feel to wake up with the memories of tonight’s activities fresh on their mind, or how the Curtis’ themselves would react to see a couple of entangled greasers on their lounge couch. 

But all of those details didn’t matter at this point in time, because Dallas was warmer than he’s ever been.


End file.
